I was complaining out loud the other day about the distracting man I was sitting next to, hammering his keyboard, typing like a donkey falling downstairs. But then it occurred to me, I always blame external factors for ruining my focus when really I lack it for internal reasons. If I genuinely had focus, nothing could disturb me.
if you're going to create ... you're going to create with part of your mind and your body blown away
MUJI's goal is to give customers a rational satisfaction, expressed not with, "This is what I really want" but with "This will do." "This is what I really want" expresses both faint egoism and discord, while "This will do" expresses conciliatory reasoning.
He was a shirtless man in the back of his mind, and I let out a curse as he leaned over to kiss me on the shoulder. (Looking at an image of two sumo wrestlers grappling.)
Uses a technique with the astounding beautiful name of skip-thought vectors, a machine which is able to
reconstruct the surrounding sentences of a passage in a book.
See also: A video of the same stories-from-images trick being performed from a live webcam feed:
a man is eating a hot dog in a crowd.
From this explanation of Soviet Deep Battle theory, an insight into military science:
War is no longer a series of short and sharp engagements but rather a flowing affair, with larger, strategically oriented battles ('operations') that often encompass several smaller, shorter battles-within-battles (tactical engagements).
Which leads to approaches:
Deep Battle, or Deep Operations in particular first begins to develop as a theory in the 1920s. Like most developing theories of Mobile Operations at this time, it had one, over-arching goal: Get the battlescape moving, and keep it moving
I've been skiing like once and my main metaphorical takeaway was that it's easier to course correct when you're in motion. Try to turn when you're going forwards slowly, you'll tumble. There's a lesson there for company strategy, and I find myself reaching for this metaphor again and again. But now it turns out that military science understands movement, ability to adjust to circumstances, and flow, in a far richer way than me and my experience on the side of a mountain in Canada.
We tell stories to ourselves about what we experience, then we use those stories to approach the world. What stories we choose matters.
War has a vocabulary and a philosophy all of its own, and the fact I don't know anything about it tells me I'm missing out on something valuable -- as unpleasant as the subject matter is.
See also: Frieze magazine on the Israeli Defence Forces (from 2006) who, it turns out, are heavily influenced by contemporary philosophy:
Most important was the distinction [Deleuze and Guattari in A Thousand Plateaus] have pointed out between the concepts of "smooth" and "striated" space ... In the IDF we now often use the term "to smooth out space" when we want to refer to operation in a space as if it had no borders. ... Palestinian areas could indeed be thought of as "striated" in the sense that they are enclosed by fences, walls, ditches, roads blocks and so on. When I asked him if moving through walls was part of it, he explained that, 'In Nablus the IDF understood urban fighting as a spatial problem. ... Travelling through walls is a simple mechanical solution that connects theory and practice.'
A startling article.
I wrote a poem on Twitter. It's 36 tweets long, and happens entirely in your notifications panel.
Or maybe what I made is a fictionbot. You say "hi" to it and it tells you a story. You get sent each line only when you like the last. The story is about liking, and continuing.
If it gets too much attention it'll break, that's part of the fun.
You can tell I'm interested in chatbots and - with my business hat on - I'm especially excited about digital coworker bots, being pioneered by the likes of Howdy which helps you run meetings (see screenshots). All the energy is around Slack which is bot-friendly group messaging for work... a great product and a great marketing strategy: They've figured out how to make virality work in enterprise by having a frictionless on-ramp below the expense threshold and treating the team as the viral atomic unit.
And back in the day, I used to make chatbots that you used individually on AIM. For instance, googlematic let you search Google -- and that got me a bunch of nice attention, and in a bunch of trouble too.
But I'm into Twitter. Twitter is something between these and something different too. Twitter is a place where people talk to each other and groups. It's not quite personal, and it's not focused on work... it's public. I'm curious about what you can do with bots in public space. I'm in love with @mothgenerator and its gorgeous computer-generated moths. But more than that, there's something for me about interactions that happen over time, and interactions that can start with one person and widen up to more people, sometimes deliberately and sometimes accidentally because they're visible. It seems like there's a lot of creative potential there. Stories! Text adventures! Collaborative poems!
So much potential.
Which is why I'm taking my own advice and exploring the potential with art. Well I say art. Amateur poetry really.
I wanted to explore the feeling of a like and in particular waiting for a response, especially because Twitter just shifted from faves to likes. So that's what I wrote. Made. Wrote.
Technically, I have a basic Python 3 app that I use to get started on any new project. It has everything I want already set up... sign in via Twitter, a database capable of storing emoji, nice web templates, email error logging, solid deployment to my webserver, and an asynchronous loop to run background tasks like listening for tweet activity. Custom for how I tend to work. It's taken me a while to get happy with this (my coding is rusty) but it's neat that I can get something written and live in an hour instead of a week.
And I've learnt a ton about the tech things like Twitter limits and what you can and cannot see via the API (such as: you can see @-mentions from users you don't follow, but you won't get notified of their likes on your tweets). And lots of details about how to make a system where it won't break in-progress stories when I edit the words.
But mainly I've been seeing how reading (and having to like!) tweets feels, versus lines on paper, and how that changes what I write. So I've spent most of my time on the words not the code, which is just as it should be.
I want to keep digging with fictionbots. Like I said above, there's so much potential. If you'd like to collaborate, I'd be up for chatting... it would be great to work on a little project with someone who can actually write!
Anyway, nice to have shipped something, no matter how simple, or rather, snuck it out the door. Or rather rather - because it's a poem - published. I hope you like it.
2.8 million years ago, a nearby supernova caused apes to come down from the trees.
Based on the concentration of Fe-60 in the crust, Knie estimated that the supernova exploded at least 100 light-years from Earth - three times the distance at which it could’ve obliterated the ozone layer - but close enough to potentially alter cloud formation, and thus, climate.
(You know when Carl Sagan says we are made of star stuff. Fe-60 is a type of radioactive iron that is created only in stars, and gets out only when they explode. There is a very thin layer of Fe-60 dusting our planet, 2.8 million years down in the deposited mud at the bottom of the oceans.)
Around that time, the African climate dried up, causing the forests to shrink and give way to grassy savanna. Scientists think this change may have encouraged our hominid ancestors as they descended from trees and eventually began walking on two legs.
What an alarm clock for humanity! Where's the snooze button, let me stay in my tree.
First-person drone racing through the trees: You wear a virtual reality helmet, and race the drone along the track through the trees, seeing through a camera mounted on the front.
Future Forms is
a collection of space-age electronics, primarily dating from the 1960s to the 1980s.
See also this gallery of Soviet PCs. Look at how much bright orange there is! Yum.
I wonder. I wonder. Was it because these PCs were made in the heady days of the Atomic Age?
A uranium glaze on ceramics has a wonderful glossy, bright red-orange finish. Was the orange uranium aesthetic carried over to plastic PCs?
It reminds me of the days in the early 2000s when all electronics had to use blue LEDs to look futuristic -- the technology of blue LEDs having been commercialised just a few years before. I saw my first blue LED - hot out of the labs in Japan and brought back to Oxford - in 1998. There were probably a couple hundred of us in the room when the LED was connected to a battery and lit up, and all of us saw the purest blue we had ever seen, all for the first time, the colour of the future. Physics. There was a collective sigh of awe.
Natural gas is used domestically for cooking and heating. A leak can explode or suffocate. So an odour of rotten eggs is added, in order that we can tell it's there when it's there. For safety.
So you wake up one morning after drunkenly playing some VR game and passing out, you forget you're still wearing your retinal projection contact lenses and your ear plugs are still connected to the virtual world, not amplifying the real. What's the odour we add to VR so you know you're still in it? What should be the smell of the virtual?
See also, this slide and the next: Blue is the colour of hyperlinks.
Rod McLaren's beautiful meditation on spreadsheets, and his spreadsheet art: Sandcastles and Spreadsheets.
The spreadsheet's unreality is dangerously doubled because, while their ordered data and formulae always comfort you that you have authored a controllable certainty, most spreadsheets are mere conjectures, provisional plans, ideas or hopes.
Spreadsheets are dreams.
Read that, next time you have a rainy day with your head buried in Excel.
Rod's essay is part of Beeker Northam's larger project, Hand & Brain with William Gibson and several others contributing. Something to get lost in.
Donald Knuth helped define computer science. Since 1990, he no longer has an email address:
I'd used email since about 1975, and it seems to me that 15 years of email is plenty for one lifetime.
Email is a wonderful thing for people whose role in life is to be on top of things. But not for me; my role is to be on the bottom of things.
He replies to his correspondence for 1 day every 3 months.
Joe Nelson ran with this... Going Off-Line.
I will check email once per week, on Monday.
On Twitter and Github I'll be entirely write-only. I’ll check replies/messages/issues on Mondays along with my email. ...
I will eliminate all use of the computer that is not directly related to creating things. If I’m not coding, writing, or editing videos then there will be literally nothing to do. I am going to dissociate the computer from mindless fun, from the capacity to kill time online.
I like the idea of taking a write-only sabbatical.
(Actually, thinking about it, I reckon that's why I'm enjoying writing on my blog so much. In the old days of blogging, a blog post was part of a conversation. Not today. Barely anybody replies, and when I do get a response it's lovely or thoughtful and often both. But I don't know if anyone reads these words; the links don't get shared out so much. It's very freeing, like having a notebook with a very slight incentive to better organise my thoughts. And my thoughts improve in that process. Write-only blogging.)
"Don't you worry about the monument ceasing to be real in an important sense," I asked. "I mean, with all this messing about isn't Stonehenge in danger of museumification?"
The balance between putting the past on a pedestal, and living in it and carrying it forwards.
A few years ago, I transcribed and put online one of my all-time favourite short stories, The Author of the Acacia Seeds by Ursula K. Le Guin. My favourite story not just for the ideas, or for the turns of phrase and the humour. But for the gentle, determined build into a wholesale decentering of what it means to be human, and a huge widening of togetherness and empathy to the entire cosmos. Which, it turns out, is what I love science fiction for.
But don't read that.
Because here is a video of Le Guin reading from the Acacia Seeds at a conference and oh my goodness it makes me tingle.
Hardware-ish coffee morning last week was AWESOME. Thank you for coming - in no particular order - Nathan, Nat who has just launched a new invention studio called Buckley Williams, Maximilian and Heinrich from Kazendi, Rob who is behind the Ockham Razor, creative hardware engineer Saar, Grace from manufacturer PCH International, the Tingbot massive - which is launching on Kickstarter in a matter of hours - Ben and Joe and Ken from Nord, Naomi and Nick who make biofeedback games to regulate breathing at Shift, Josh (hardware accelerator Hardware Pro), Ines (hardware investor C4V), Tony and Christiaan of the accelerating meteor Pact Coffee which recently successfully launched Nespresso-compatible speciality coffee on Kickstarter, David of Pixie Labs, No Mayo Digital's Izzy and Clare, shipped-hardware-product BleepBleeps founder Tom, hardware-to-software maker another Tom, Chelsea who is behind the Olly table-top robot currently in development, and OpenSensors Internet of Things platform founder Yodit. And breathe out.
What an amazing group for chitter-chatter and caffeine!
Including me that's 24 people, and a quick stat -- we're down to two thirds (16) who would probably identify as dudes. Which is not perfect but better than it has been, and on the right trend. Going by my gut, it seems that female founders are a better part of the mix in hardware startups than tech at large, and I hope that goes for inclusivity of all kinds. Whether or not my gut feeling is correct, I certainly want the London hardware community to be a leading edge of London's inclusivity, and that's why I track the NADQ at this coffee mornings.
NADQ = Not A Dude Quotient.
So if you're a woman or not a down-the-line dude, thanks for coming! If you invited someone, thanks! I know it's a bit weird to keep calling out my coffee morning NADQ like this, but trust me it's weirder when I sit round a table with six other men on a Thursday morning.
There were a ton of new people today. That was lovely to see.
Honestly who knows what was discussed.
Hardware-ish coffee morning sprawled over about five tables, with double that many conversations and people continually moving round. I have no idea what people talked about. But I had to leave just after 11 and people were still going!
I was darting about like a headless chicken so I didn't get to say hi to anyone and my attention was always elsewhere. BOOOOO. And sorry to everyone I know that I didn't get to chat with!
BUT a couple of things I did notice.
What's also interesting to me is that we had pre, post, and intermezzo Kickstarter projects present, from both small and pretty seriously established companies, plus investors and manufacturing. A maturing scene. There's a lot of knowledge in the room.
...to the point that, discussing one project that is imminently adding hardware to their existing software-only offer, I can assemble the roadmap with them, 50% from my own knowledge (what the critical proof-points and bottlenecks are, what needs to happen hand-in-hand with what), and 50% simply from looking around and going: Well, first do it like company X, and then do product development like company Y, and finally you will end up speaking with someone like company Z and here are the questions to ask.
Let's have one more hardware-ish coffee morning this side of the new year. I'll take a look at my calendar and see if I can pick a Thursday which won't be too conflicted with the holidays. Join the email announce list, I'll send a note there to arrange it.
UPDATE: Tingbot is now on Kickstarter! Go read more about it there. And please back it, I want a Tingbot of my own.
Something interesting is happening in UK retail banking... a transformation -- as far as I can tell it's triggered by the impending (and catchily named) European PSD2 which includes
new rules designed to open up access to payment account information to third parties and the UK preparation for this, commissioned by the Treasury and led by the Open Banking Working Group, defining exactly how we'll be able to, for example, plug apps into our current accounts.
If you've ever complained about your sucky bank mobile app, this will let third parties replace it. If you've ever used Transferwise because it's a cheaper and easier way to pay for a holiday hotel, this will open up competition and make the banks get cheaper and easier too. If you've ever wondered why, in the UK, we don't have apps like Acorns which automatically rounds up all your transactions to the nearest dollar, and sweeps the round-ups into your investment portfolio, this will fix that.
Naturally the UK banks are scared they're about to be commoditised AND responding with vast and impressive innovation efforts.
This is anecdotal. I have a friend who works in retail banking, I've had a meeting with a couple of other banks, and I'm hearing faint noises on the grapevine.
So I was talking to my friend, and wondering - this opening up of UK banking - which will be a cross between being able to move my mobile phone number between operators (which wasn't originally possible) and Youtube and iTunes which democratised music production... what will happen?
It might be like newspapers. It turns out newspapers were an accident of distribution. They were really good at printing for cheap and getting bundles of papers into every pair of hands in the country. But then the internet emerged as a rival form of distribution, and the newspapers were unbundled -- classified ads to Craigslist and then Facebook, ads to Google, breaking news to social media, expert comment to blogs. And as the readers go, so does ad value. It's a death of a thousand cuts, and although journalism is still useful, it no longer sits catching cash at that valuable mountain pass. We'll have to find a new way to fund it.
You know, no huge loss. It's important we find a way to properly fund investigative journalism, but it doesn't need to be these particular journalists or those particular publications.
Or it might be like Uber.
What happens when driving a car from point A to point B is no longer a specialised profession, when Google Maps can tell you what to do?
What happens to retail banking when...
Goodbye existing UK high street banks.
All of which means the question becomes:
As a retail bank, what do you do to ensure you're not just the plumbing, that you provide enough value that (a) customers come to you and stay with you; and, (b) customers use you enough that there multiple low-friction upsell opportunities to those services that actually make a profit?
In short, how can my bank be a platform more like iOS (as gorgeous as Android is, I'm never going to switch because I can't be bothered to re-download all those apps and learn new habits) and not a platform like my electricity suppler (electric potential is electric potential, switching is a phone call, and I'll give my money to the folks who build those beautiful fields of windmills thankyouverymuch).
I was chatting with my friend in banking (remember I said I have a friend in banking) on Friday.
Look, what apps can you build on the current account. Thinking about that service in the US that sweeps your small change... there's Digit which is a text-message-only artificial intelligence that helps you save money. Clever. Catchy. And I'm sure I read about one that watches your current account and automatically donates money to charity.
Well there's a service like that charity one in the UK, something offered by Lloyds that handily and easily donates your spare change to charity:
Save a few pennies every time you spend with your Lloyds Bank visa debit card. Problem being I've never heard of it.
And of course I haven't. Lloyds has a thousand products. They aren't existentially threatened if this particular one doesn't take off, and it's a marketing expense anyhow so it's barely possible to tell whether it matters. But the charity idea is a good one.
How about this -- spitballing an idea...
What if a consumer bank partnered with an online fundraising service, let's say Just Giving which makes it super easy for charitable causes to set a goal, and allows individuals to spread the word through their social networks.
They partner and set up a new form of charitable giving called "sweep" -- it gives your spare change to some some organisation for 3 months, say. And it's frictionless... one-click for this particular bank if you already have an account, tap and it's connected, enabled by the technology built to meet European PSD2.
Just Giving (or whatever service) is crazy incentivised to market this. It's a competitive advantage, it's existential for them, they live or die by that KPI. And the bank... well, they do what they do best. Only now their name is out there, customers have both the warm fuzzies and a new incentive to stick with this particular account. Sure other banks will catch up, but keep building apps and get partners whose interests are exactly aligned with getting the word out and making the partnership succeed.
Maybe the next one-click integration is Square retail payments.
Maybe buy the Square kit in the UK, you click a button and BOOM you have a small business banking account with insert name of forward-looking UK bank here. Sure you can't withdraw any cash yet due to European anti money laundering regs but hey the same is true with PayPal right, so come into the branch whenever you're ready and we'll do the paperwork. Meanwhile you can run your shop, go ahead, make sales.
Where does this lead?
Perhaps, just perhaps, it leads into a form of customer relationship which is more relevant to people under 40 than in-person meetings and robot voice phone menus.
Why shouldn't I be able to follow my current account on Twitter and get a direct message when my salary hits my bank? And if that same current account asked me, in that same DM, Hey, Matt, look, I can set you up an ISA, you've got a couple hundred a month spare to save into it, you up for this Y/N? Sure I'm going to say yes.
These are simple concepts to implement. But they're also forward looking, aligned with strategic interests, and might actually get some attention.
My point is, for the UK consumer banks, the ideas are ten a penny. The difficulty, as ever, is going to be the organisational change to take the opportunity, and keep taking it.
or signing machine is a device used for the automatic signing of a signature.
Used extensively by US presidents:
In 2005, the U.S. Justice Department issued a legal opinion upholding the right of the U.S. President to sign bills by autopen.
Lyndon Johnson allowed photographs of his autopen to be taken while he was in office, and in 1968 the National Enquirer ran them along with the front page headline "The Robot That Sits In For The President."
Here's the front page: The Robot That Sits In For the President
the LongPen is not an Autopen, which signs your name over and over without your presence being required. Instead, the LongPen does whatever you have just done at your end, including ‘Happy Birthday Marge’ and a picture of a pussycat
Saves travelling when on book tours.
So hold me Mom, in your long arms. In your automatic arms. In your electrical arms.
Unmanned? Robotic? Unpiloted? Uncrewed? Unoccupied? Unhumaned? Drone? Autonomous? Crewless?
The problem is that unmanned is sexist; robotic craft can still contain humans; unpiloted is not accurate because there's still a pilot it's just not human; uncrewed is not in the dictionary... and besides there is a crew, it's just several million miles away back at mission control.
My feeling is that it'll become the default to have spacecraft with no human crew, and we'll end up distinguishing by saying when it does have human passengers, assuming not otherwise.
Just like with robot cars. We no longer say "horseless" carriage; in the future we won't say "driverless" car. It'll be something to point out when there really is a human involved.
The iPhone 6S came out recently, and as usual there were lines overnight outside the shops. At the Apple Store in Sydney, a telepresence robot was 4th in line. Everyone seemed ok about it.
I remember playing Mario Kart on the Nintendo DS and you could get linked up with real human players to race against -- and there was a pretty good A.I. system in Mario Kart so why play against humans? You couldn't chat. But something... the humanness shone through.
Andy Serkis playing Gollum in the Lord of the Rings movies. You can see him, through the motion capture and the green screen and the rendered mesh. You can see him right from the back of the CGI.
You get that at the theatre -- you go and see an opera and you're right up there in the gods, but somehow you can tell the emotion of the lead from that tiny thumbnail of a face all the way down there on the stage, the feelings shine up and up, they're larger than life.
In the future our great performers will be those who are able to project their humanity through heavy shrouds of computer mediation.
Soylent is a food replacement beverage; you don't need to consume anything else. I think this is part of the modern mindset, these bimodal extremes: Either you eat at Michelin star restaurants, or you go low-cost low-effort; why bother doing anything between.
The founder of Soylent is Rob Rhinehart. What kind of person conceives of a product like Soylent? He recently gave up alternating current.
The walls are buzzing. I know this because I have a magnet implanted in my hand and whenever I reach near an outlet I can feel them. I can feel fortresses of industry miles away burning prehistoric hydrocarbons by the megaton.
Anyway, so he doesn't have mains electricity. No kitchen, no TV. He powers his laptop and his phone from a solar cell.
Look, this is what got me. He doesn't own a washing machine. And so:
I enjoy doing laundry about as much as doing dishes. I get my clothing custom made in China for prices you would not believe and have new ones regularly shipped to me. ... I donate my used garments.
Unpiloted? Uncrewed? Unoccupied? Unhumaned?
Let's do another hardware-ish coffee morning! Next week.
Thursday 29th October, 9.30am for a couple of hours, at the Book Club (100 Leonard St).
Why? Because it's been A TRILLION YEARS. Something about summer totally knocked out my routines. Plus all that cricket on the TV. Reduced my efficiency somewhat. The last hardware-ish coffee morning was in San Francisco, I'm still due to write that up.
Anyway here's how it works but the short version... it might be five of us, it might be fifteen, we're all vaguely interested in hardware startups, or making things, or knitting.
There's no structure, no single conversation, it's super super informal. Come along! And we have an alarming tendency towards the meetup group cosmic death known as TOO MANY DUDES -- so if you're NOT a dude, please take take this as an enthusiastic invitation. Don't let me sit there with a half dozen men on a Thursday morning for two hours.
Bring a prototype if you fancy showing it round, but no pressure. Always nice to have some stuff to look at.
See you then!
For email updates, join the increasingly infrequent coffee morning announce list.
My take is Twitter has three killer opportunities, invented by users and, apart from the first, ignored by the company itself.
Everyone else seems to be chipping in on what Twitter should be doing, so this is me joining in. Those three opportunities:
Breaking news, customer service, TV. I don't say these because they're places Twitter could possibly go. I point them out because users have already demonstrated that this is how Twitter works for them, and because Twitter's competitors aren't there. (Yet.)
I'm bullish on Twitter because these opportunities are obvious, and Twitter Moments and the recent leadership changes hint that maybe they're ready to take the advantage.
There's something about art + tech which is niggling at me. The process I'm interested in is when a technology organisation commissions or supports art as a way to understand itself.
I don't quite understand this itch or why I've got it, so I've spent a day looking at examples.
The 1951 Festival of Britain... a celebration of science, culture, and manufacturing. This public information film introduces it:
Something Britain devised ... a milestone between past and future, to enrich and enliven the present. A diverse place, of serious fun, and light-hearted solemnity ... That's us. Or some of us. For we're more than that... We are the Lion and the Unicorn. The Lion is our strength; the Unicorn our imagination.
As part of this:
28 of Britain's leading manufacturers came together to form the Festival Pattern Group -- a collaboration between designers and scientists pioneering the then-new method of x-ray crystallography.
All catalogued in the Wellcome Trust's exhibition, From Atoms to Patterns. Included were
table surfaces, lace, plates, carpets, wallpaper, glass, fabrics, and even ashtrays based on the atomic structures of complex molecules like insulin and haemoglobin.
Another collaboration between design and science:
Mark Champkins who is Inventor in Residence at London's Science Museum. His work is sold in the museum shop and includes
Also this bouquet of flowers for the Queen, made out of computer punch cards.
Chrome Experiments is
a showcase of web experiments written by the creative coding community.
I'm not sure that Google would call this art, but there are over a thousand purposeless-but-beautiful explorations of what code can do in the browser, and you can bet the Chrome browser team is inspired and stretched by what's contributed.
One such experiment: Ocean Wave Simulation.
Poetic applications of technology...
These Air Penguins from 2009. Majestic, silver helium-filled robots that swim through the air like penguins through water. Makes me wonder when we're going to see gentle acrobatic robots over Trafalgar Square, or in stadiums. Soon I hope.
The penguins are by Festo, a German industrial automation company. Festo's YouTube channel. I'm sure the techniques developed (they create these animal-inspired robots every year) will fold back into the day-to-day.
The Bell Labs artist in residence programme in the sixties:
VanDerBeek would show up describing phantasmagoric ideas that he wanted the computers to realize and that then Knowlton [the engineer] would patiently explain what the program was actually capable of. Between these poles of reality they produced some of the first computer animation ever.
I look at some of the early films by Lilian Schwartz and I don't think I'm seeing art as "something to work towards" or even (although it is this too) a kind of buttressing of human meaning to technical work... but as a way of discovering possibility? "Discovering" is too passive a word, the process is two way. The artist reveals and shapes the technology simultaneously.
PIXILLATION occurred at a time when the computer system was linear in time and space; Programs did not yet control pixels as moving, malleable palettes -- Pixillation was made in 1970.
Bell Labs in the 1990s, Listening Post:
viewers are immersed in a sonification and visualization of thousands of simultaneous conversations happening on the internet at that moment in real-time. An arched wall of hundreds of small screens display ever-changing text in a cool glowing blue. Electronically-generated voices in both a pitched-monotone and natural-inflection sing out the text from every corner of the room singly, overlapping, or in strange harmonies.
Rachel Duckhouse making visible the hidden social connections between her fellow artists at Banff. Legends.
The Xerox PARC artist in residence programme is described here. I'm entranced by the work of Judy Malloy who in 1993 created a smart kitchen (an Internet of Things kitchen, a cybernetic kitchen, a ubiquitous computing kitchen...) as a multi-player text adventure. Her description:
the devices were a mobile, audio equipped robot, (Ralph Will Clean Up After You) a database food dispensing table, (GoodFood), a pre-narrative video device, (Barbie-Q) and two electronic books. (Sarah's Diary and the narranoter) The social nature of LambdaMoo was also incorporated into Brown House Kitchen. Players could sit at the table, order meals, and as is usual in LambdaMOO, talk with other players.
And there are extracts from Brown House Kitchen here:
Ralph is an aging Will Clean Up After You Unit, manufactured in 2003 by Orlando Kitchen Thingmans. His straight white hair is combed back from his pink, wrinkled simulated skin. When you talk to him, it becomes apparent that his gossip player is stuck in some previous month.
What strikes me about this vision of the future is that, unlike other future kitchens, it feels fully realised. This is a world we might live in.
But the point of Malloy's work isn't to be a vision of the future: It's (in her words)
narrative performance art which is a harder to grasp and much more interesting place to be.
There are other residencies:
NPR discusses the programmes at Autodesk and Facebook. The residency run by Amtrak is intriguing:
It was about looking outward, but from what I hear from other Amtrak writers, many used it as an opportunity to look inward.
John Chamberlain's residency at the RAND Corporation (published in 1971).
Chamberlain distributed a cryptic memo to all consultants at RAND ... 'I'm searching for ANSWERS. Not questions! If you have any, will you please filll in below, and send them to me in Room 1138.'
Quit Wasting RAND Paper and Time.
GO TO HELL MISTER!!
An artist in residence is a waste of money.
I've run across lots of instances of artists being commissioned for marketing -- to get the word out but in a classy way. And of sponsorship of galleries and art prizes.
You know, Andy Warhol drawing Debbie Harry as part of the launch of the Amiga 1000. You can't get any more art.
But it's not the itch I'm feeling.
When the art is outward-facing, as marketing, as communication that runs at the launch of a product and includes no feedback loop into the product's invention... when this happens, the tech company isn't using the art to talk to itself, to understand itself.
That said, you do get instances where it all comes together, technology and art and adverting and reflection: Another Science Fiction: Advertising the Space Race 1957-1962 by Megan Prelinger.
Prelinger documents how the tech companies involved in the space race would use science fiction artists to create their adverts, briefing them on their top secret research to make nod-and-wink messages to other companies, and also - because the artists would feed ideas to sci-fi authors - subtly influencing the emerging consensus cosmogony.
I find it hard to figure out the relationship between Rackspace (a hosting company) and gapingvoid, an artist and now a consultancy. Is it patronage and a kind of "corporate social responsibility," or access to a fresh well of ideas, or an association -- a kind of cultural osmosis that Rackspace believes it needs?
Graffiti artist David Choe accepted equity instead of cash to paint Facebook's offices in 2005. Choe's stock is now worth $200 million.
Sometimes art is about curation, an intervention that creates maybe a binding gravity, or maybe a sense of history or manifest destiny, or maybe a landscape that produces a new language from the spaces opened up between things.
My examples here aren't always from technology companies, but I find them all inspirational none-the-less.
A Computer Perspective (1971) by the Eames Office for IBM...
important milestones in the development of the electronic computer.
Talk to Me (2011) curated by Paola Antonelli at the New York MoMA, which opened up the territory of computers and humans, talking and augmenting one another. A step away from "interface" into something, well, whatever we're in now.
The New Aesthetic (2011) by James Bridle. Vanity Fair:
the visible artifacts of the network, the identifiable places and moments where the digital erupts into the physical. He posted dresses patterned in pixels, camouflage that evades facial recognition, and a map of the places most densely covered by Wikipedia entries.
Cybernetic Serendipity (1968) curated by Jasia Reichardt at the ICA:
the links between the random systems employed by artists, composers and poets, and those involved with the making and the use of cybernetic devices. Cybernetic Serendipity dealt with possibilities rather than achievements, especially since in 1968 computers had not yet revolutionised music, art, or poetry, in the same way that they had revolutionised science.
And of course: Modern art was a CIA weapon, funded and nurtured to battle in the cultural front of the Cold War.
EO1 by Electric Objects -- a screen that leans against your wall and displays art.
Only... this is a TV that sits on its side emitting light. It doesn't make sense to reproduce oil paintings on it. That's not art, that's a screen saver.
What I like is that EO1 launched with an artist programme:
Artworks can take the form of still images, animated gifs, video, generative and web-based works ...
Selected artists will be featured and promoted in Art Club, Electric Objects's collection of new and original art for EO1, and receive an EO1 prototype plus a $500 commission fee.
Art as a way to explore the form. In a way, like when Medium acquired Matter -- long-form content presentation tool acquires long-form journalism organisation.
Six Monkeys by Brendan Dawes with newsletter-sending-technology-company Mailchimp. From the intro:
Email is often thought of with negative connotations; overflowing inboxes, strategies on how to get to inbox zero ... There is however another side. Email is a ubiquitous, easy to understand system, working across any platform that can deliver not just the unwanted and the unloved but often the exact opposite; messages from friends, exciting opportunities, memories of trips taken and a million other things.
What is it?
Six Monkeys is a series of six connected objects that look at how we might change our relationship to email by changing the surrounding context of how we interact with it. By placing email within our everyday physical spaces it may get us to look at the familiarity of email in a new light; we may even learn to love it again.
Is this marketing? Well Mailchimp got press in the right places. But I think the key is in the phrase,
email in a new light. My feeling is that Six Monkeys speaks best and loudest to Mailchimp and its community of users, keeping them alive to what email really is, not just what it is today.
Each object is named after a famous Chimpanzee used in linguistic research.
The Open Data Institute (co-founded by Tim Berners-Lee, led by Gavin Starks) trains companies and lobbies for open data. But since it formed in 2012, it has also commissioned and exhibited art.
Artworks have included a knitted data discrepancy, a larger-than-life sized electronic sculpture, a semi-sentient vending machine, data collection performances, kinetic objects, and pneumatic machines.
Explore some of the collection here but I know there's more -- I'm seeing if I can lay my hands on the catalogues, or find out whether there's an online gallery.
So I'm not super drawn to art-as-marketing, or even technology-as-artistic-tool -- what's grabbing me is when art is used in some kind of process by a company or organisation to think about itself. Either by commissioning, or via a residency programme, or as some kind of poetic effort or exploration. But not as design, really, or simple patronage. Something else.
And while net.art is brilliant and exciting - a number of artists fizzing as they explore and define a medium - and also art as outsider critique (2005), what's intriguing to me is the deliberate use of art, by the tech organisation itself, for... something. Whatever it is. If it even knows.
An instinctive urge for interpretation?
Here's a report on sound artist Bill Fortana at CERN, home of the Large Hadron Collider:
Fontana recorded the sounds. The popping, tapping dance beat of the protons' regular release is underlaid with the hiss of cooling water and the heavy clang of the magnets charging and discharging. ...
[Fontana] listened to the proton source for a moment, and then handed his headphones to Detlef Kuchler, the physicist who prepares the protons and launches them on their journey. ...
"The picture on Detlef's face was astounding," [Koek] says. "This was his baby -- and it looked as if he had just heard it crying for the first time."
The reason I'm looking into this is a short (and visual) report I'm writing -- I lend a hand at a Large Technology Company You've Probably Heard Of, and my hunch is there's some important stuff here. I'd like to understand it better and to bring to their attention.
While I'm not writing up my conclusions here, I've posted the research because most of these projects were shared with me on Twitter and in follow-up emails by a ton of people. Thanks hugely to: @rogre, @paulpod, @hannah_redler, @amcewen, @bull, @uah, @stuartcurran, @iamdanw, @pdcawley, @inthecompanyof, @tomwhitwell, @anabjain, @designscold, @chrisboden, and @monkchips. Special thanks to @gsvoss. Not all of your contributions made it into this list, but each one has been valuable and massively appreciated. Thank you!